Family Reunion (?!)

FRIDAY

I really do not like wearing uniforms. I'm not in private school. The nuns are not waiting to rap my knuckles with a ruler. So, why Baltimore had to enforce a uniform policy on all the public schools is beyond me.

"Partly cloudy skies right now. Temperatures will remain in the 70s. Take your umbrellas though for those late afternoon thunderstorms. Moms, you don't want your kids taking any sick days so son after school has just started. Now, back to you, Denise."

Something else that is beyond me. Does Bob "The Mustache" Turk always have to be so cheesy when he gives the 5 Day Forecast. Oh, brother. Just another day of getting ready for school. It's actually not so bad. It's just facing Mom in the morning that drags me down. Martha Henderson, I mean Mom, does have some old-fashioned ideas and she doesn't mind forcing them down everyone's throat. Like, a girl is not supposed to wear make-up until she turns 18 and is no longer in school. A girl who wears even lipstick, and only lipstick, before then is just plain loose. God didn't make pierced ears or tattoos so I guess I'm not getting either of those either. Yet. I just wish Mom would realize that the days of beehive hairdos and pearl necklaces adorning black cocktail dresses are so over. Oh, well. I better go downstairs and get the morning over with.

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"Jane, are you wearing the blouse I ironed for you last night?"

Great. I'm not even halfway down the steps and it begins already.

"No, Mom. It's "Come As You Feel Like Day" and I feel like going to school in stiletto heels and a brassiere."

"There's no need for a smart mouth. I just asked you a simple question. If you don't want me to ask you anything just say so. I don't even have to talk to you."

Could I be so lucky?

"You know, I don't have to do anything for you."

Here it comes. The same guilt trip since God knows when.

"But, that's okay. I don't have too many years left then none of you have to put up with me."

Yep. I thought so. "Mom, you're only 56. You will live long enough to be a thorn in your grandchildren's sides."

Pause. Long pause.

Okay. The silent treatment. That's new.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I really am. I appreciate you ironing my blouses for me. Thank you. I appreciate everything you have done for me. Okay? I'm sorry."

"You just remember this. You don't know everything and I'm the only best friend you'll ever get."

"Yes, Mom. Can I go now? I don't want to miss my bus."

"Fine. Just don't be late getting home. I need your help making the cakes and casseroles for tomorrow."

"Yes, Mom. 'Bye. Love you."

"Have a good day!"

Finally, a little peace and quiet. It won't last long though. The bus always gets too crowded and noisy in the morning. I wish the schools and the MTA would just provide more buses for the students. Then, I might actually get a seat instead of avoiding the Walbrook boys. Hormonal little somebodies. They need to look up someone else's skirt for a change. I swear, one of these days I'm going to five one those boys a bloody nose. Let them mess with me after that.
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So far, I have found two really good things to come home to -- getting out of my flipping school uniform and playing with Cindy. Cindy is short for Cinderella and she happens to be Mom's dog. A little gray and white ragamuffin of a mutt who will lick you to death. I love that little girl.

But, alas, I can't stay upstairs all night and play with her. Mom needs me in the kitchen. We're making 3 cakes, 6 casseroles, 2 fat-laden mayonnaise-based salads (ugh), and a partridge in a pear tree. Just kidding. I am making a fruit salad in a hollowed out watermelon. I'll do that tomorrow though so the fruit won't spoil so quickly. Why are we cooking so much you may ask? Go ahead. Ask. This is all for a family reunion we have every September. Fun.

Our reunions usually are pretty dull. there have been a few times when we had some excitement. I'm not talking about the typical congratulatory, jump up and down for joy reasons like a new baby or someone getting engaged. As nice as they are that's not half as delicious as the times when you-know-what hits the fan. Those times happen the most when my sister, Anne, comes back to town.

Anne is so lucky to have been born first. Not only was she smart enough to save her money from waitressing jobs throughout high school but she saved enough to pay for tuition at the community college. Now, she gets to travel around the world as personal manager for the latest musical sensations, We Don't Know. No, really. That's the name of the rock band -- We Don't Know. Man, is Anne so lucky. I hate her. No, I tell a lie. It's good that she left when she did. She's my inspiration to stay motivated to move on with my life and not let things get stagnant.

But, anyway, Mom and I are busy making some of the food for the reunion. Mom always makes one chocolate cake and one yellow cake. Simple, right. I'm trying something different -- a black forest cake. You know the kind I'm talking about. dark chocolate cake with cherries and a vanilla cream filling. I just hope it looks like the picture in Redbook magazine. Let's see, I'm making the fruit salad and the black forest cake. What am I forgetting? Oh, yeah. Mom is allowing me to make a casserole of homemade macaroni and cheese. This is not mac and cheese from the box. I'm baking the whole thing and adding my own little touches to it. I think macaroni is not complete without 3 different types of cheeses, brown mustard, chives, and tomatoes. Yeah, I like being creative. Mom doesn't understand it though. She thinks food that looks artistic should only be on magazine covers.

I know growing up in fosters homes had to be really rough for her but I don't know. It's like this. Some people when they grow up in a troubled home they manage to leave the past behind, see the problems as lessons not to repeat, and come out of it a better, more nurturing person. Someone who is more stable. Somehow, Mom missed learning all that. So, instead of encouraging Anne and me to pursue our dreams, she pushes us to learn only, and only, the necessities to life and get over it. Dreams are for other people and not the likes of us simple folk. Oh, Mom, Mom, Mom. I love you but I can't wait to get out of here.

Anyway, Anne is coming home for the reunion. I can't wait to hear all about her adventures in detail. I'm not too keen on We Don't Know's music but I would sure like to know what scandalous things she has managed to keep out of the newspapers. Perhaps, she'll bring a member of the band. Or, one of the roadies. Anne has a habit of bringing a date with her at every reunion since she was old enough (by Mom's standards) to date. And these guys were not what Mom would prefer for either of her daughters.

I would say that Anne's dates have been the only reason I enjoy these annual get togethers. What starts out as a boring, dull day greeting relatives who have the same complaints and the same bad jokes every year. And, in between all the bad jokes are the constant "My, how you've grown" comments and cheek pinching. Then, Anne and the guy she is seeing at the time arrive just in time to shake things up.

I remember when she brought a puck rocker wannabe who wore a nose ring attached to all 7 earrings on one ear. I laughed when she brought a skinhead and then was embarrassed when he got along so well with some of the older relatives. It's scary to think that the only thing one of my uncles didn't like about him was his fashion sense. I'm so glad she wasn't serious about him. On two separate occasions she came with a married man. One of them, Chuck, didn't bother hiding his wedding ring. The other one, Hank, would have passed as single if our Aunt Louise didn't recognize him. Hank was Aunt Louise's next door neighbor. Oops. Needless to say Mom was peeved. There was one guy that Mom actually did like until she found out he just graduated from high school and was 6 years younger than Anne. Poor Mom.

It makes me wonder why Mom does this at all. Why does she put up with all of Anne's earth shattering surprises? Maybe, it's a first born thing. I don't know and I probably never will know. So, I just sit back and watch.
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SATURDAY

"Morning, Cindy." I swear there is no better way to wake up than with hot dog breath blowing in your face followed by a wet tongue in the ear. Ewww. She has chicken breath. I guess that my cue to get up and take care of my own teeth. I wonder if Cindy will stay still long enough for me to brush hers. Probably not. "Okay, Silly Mutt. I'm up. I'm up."

Speaking of smells, yuck, Mom's been cooking bacon. Knowing her she will fry two eggs in a half inch of the bacon grease next. This little heart attack meal is usually accompanied by toast that has been slathered -- and I mean slathered -- in salty butter. Not margarine. Butter. I can feel my arteries hardening just thinking about it. Ew, ew, ew, ew. Ew. At least she's accepted my decision to become a vegetarian. She can't complain too much about it anyway. After all, I am eating my veggies. So, for my breakfast I think I will sample some of the fruit before it becomes fruit salad.
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"Morning, Mom."

"Morning. Care for some eggs?"

Did she have to ask that? "No, thanks. I'll be fine. So, what time is everyone getting here? When's the party? I am so ready for a party!" Hot tea and sarcasm in the morning. Got to love it.

"Look, I know you don't want to spend your afternoon standing around with a bunch of old fogies but do you think you can cut the crap today?"

"I'm sorry. For my last dose of crap this morning can I get you a cup of coffee? You don't sound like you had your coffee yet? You're all grouchy."

"Yes, I have had some already, thank you. And, yes, I would like another cup. So cut it out before you really see grouchy. There's a lot to do today and not enough time to do it. Here. I wrote out a list of things for you to do."
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LATER OUT IN THE GARDEN

"Tom, that's your third beer. You know what Doctor Simms said."

"Jeez, Mae, can't you lay off for one day? I fought in World War II. I'm 65 years old. If I can last this long after Herr Hitler, 5 daughters who got married without bringing any illegitimate children up, and you, then I deserve a third beer. With or without Doctor Simms permission, thank you very much."

"Oh, you old coot. I can't look at you right now."

Wow. That was only Mom's older sister and her husband. Let the fun begin. Oh, goody. She's coming this way and my cheeks aren't even ready for pinching yet. "Hi, Aunt Mae! Enjoying yourself?"

Oh, yes, I am, Sweetie! Come here and let me look at you. Oh, my. I bet you're breaking a lot of hearts these days."

That's Aunt Mae for you. Always cheerful even she grumpy at Uncle Tom. Well, it's not all bad. Playing at her house when I was little was a treat. Much better than staying home being watched like a hawk. Okay. I can tolerate a little cheek pinch. As long as it's Aunt Mae doing it.

"Hey, honey, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what can I do?"

"Can you get me some more of that macaroni and cheese and an extra bowl of fruit salad? (whispers) I think Tom could use some more fruit and less beer if you know what I mean."

"Sure. Just let me get these plates inside and then I'll go get that for you."

"Thanks so much love."

Yeah, Aunt Mae is a sweetheart. It's so nice to see that the efforts I make are appreciated. Mom would think I'm getting spoiled by that kind of attention. Maybe I am. But, hey, I am only 15. I'm allowed a little spoiling. Uh-oh, Cindy's barking again. That means we have another visitor. Yeah! Anne's here! And who is that man with her? Older. Graying a little bit. Distinguished looking. Toned. Not bad. If I was 20 years older, who knows. They're coming around back. I cannot miss this.

"Anne! Come here and give me a hug."

"Hey, Brat, how are you doing?"

"Surviving. You know how it is. You look great and who did you bring this time? He's kind of cute for an old guy."

"That's Kenneth. And, you'll meet him in a few minutes. He needs to talk to Mom first."

"Why? You two didn't get married, did you?"

"No."

"Pregnant? Did he knock you up?"

"Jane, I might work for a rock band but could you please not be so crude? And, no, I'm not pregnant."

"Are you living together? Mom would really flip over that."

"We might start living together soon but it's not what you think."

"Really? Come on. Spill."

"Watch and wait."

Watch and wait? Wait for what? Just then I turned back to look at Mom and Kenneth. And Mom slapped Kenneth's face. Hard! Man, I hope he wasn't wearing dentures.

"How dare you show your face here?! How dare you?!!!"

Wow. I have never seen Mom this upset. What the hell did Kenneth do?

"Anne, what's going on? Who is this guy and why is Mom so mad at him? Anne! Tell me what is going on. Anne!"

"His name is Kenneth Henderson. He's Dad's youngest brother."

"Okay, so he's Dad's brother. Big deal. Wait a minute. Dad didn't have a brother named Kenneth.

"Yes, he did. You want to know why we don't know about him."

"Yeah. Who wouldn't?"

"Then, this is one of those times you need to sit down, keep your mouth closed, and listen. Really listen."

So, I sat there on the back porch steps and listened. I listened to every word Anne said like I had to study for the biggest test in my life. I learned more about my family tree in the next few minutes than I had ever learned from the rest of our family.
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It was 1964 and our father, Maxwell Henderson, was not at home. He was stationed at Pleiku during the Vietnam Conflict. He and Mom had only been married two years before he was called to duty that year. And Dad didn't want Mom just sitting at home alone fretting over him. He wanted her to try to live as she always had before. So, he enlisted (yeah, good choice of words there) the help of his youngest brother, Kenneth. Kenneth couldn't join the Army like Dad. It turns out Kenneth has a heart murmur that prevented him from getting drafted.

So, there's Dad in another country. Mom is living by herself. Kenneth comes over everyday to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied. And, for a while, it works. They went to the movies together. Had lunch at Woolworth's. Kenneth even taught Mom how to play poker. A big regret on his part seeing as Mom got really good at it and beat him every time. They had a lot of fun together. Behaving like a brother and a sister would. Then, it all changed and not for the better. Although, considering it's my own sister telling me this, maybe it was for the better.

Just about everyone knows that the Christmas holidays can be very depressing. I'm sure it was especially depressing for all the people who can't be with the ones they love. Even Mom found it very difficult getting through them without Dad there to celebrate it with her. And, Ken? Well, Ken did just about everything he could think of to pull her out of it. In the end though they both found it hard to cheer each other up. So, instead of fighting it, they joined it. From what Anne told me it was two bottles of red wine and half a bottle of vodka to temporarily kill the pain and make a miracle. Anne.

When they both woke up the next morning and realized what had just happened, well, Mom just plain flipped out. She couldn't shake the guilt of sleeping with her brother-in-law. Ken wasn't happy about it either but he also felt they could try to put it behind them and start over as friends. After some strong coffee and some talking, they tried to do just that. They continued going out to lunch together and talking on the phone. However, they did stop going to the movies and playing poker. I guess some things just couldn't continue. Not after something like that.

A few days later was the new year. Mom did consider going to a party with the whole family to celebrate 1965. She figured this would the last time she would see or talk to any of them. You see, she just found out she was pregnant. You can pretty much guess who the father is. Mom didn't want anyone to know. Not even Kenneth. She thought she could stay with a friend who lived in New Jersey during the pregnancy. Maybe, she could spin some tale about helping her friend whose husband is also in Vietnam to help her while she was pregnant. That certainly would have been convenient. But, what about her baby? What about Anne? Did she intend to leave her there in New Jersey with a bunch of strangers? No. Because Mom got an even bigger surprise that look like a solution to everyone's problems. Dad came home.

With Dad home on leave, Mom found a solution to her problems. She gave Dad his own personal little Welcome Home party. Since they only had two weeks together, Mom made sure not to waste one moment of it. Yeah, they had to go out sometimes. Dad did have to spend some time with the rest of the family. Ken? Ken felt rather guilty accepting thanks for taking care of Mom. But, he accepted it nonetheless.

To make a long story short, Mom passed off Anne as Dad's. Dad came home for good a year later. They lived happily ever after for a long time. I was born 7 years later. Yes, I checked. Dad IS my Dad. And no one said a thing about that Christmas day when Mom and Kenneth were drunk. Until, Anne was rushed to the hospital because she had trouble breathing one night. During the exam, the doctor discovered Anne had developed a heart murmur. Just like Kenneth's. All it took was that and remembering that Anne was born a month early to put all the pieces together. Mom and Dad stayed together if only "for the sake of the kids." Kenneth moved away and stopped calling and writing to us. It was like he just disappeared. Dad died a few years later. And, somehow, we all got through it. The only difference is now Anne and I both know what really happened. Why our parents spent so much time acting like friends instead of a married couple.
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I'm sorry. This whole thing has me completely stunned. I'm sitting here listening to a twisted family story. I'm watching my mother completely enraged like I have never seen her before. I'm looking at a member of my family that I have never met before and I'm not sure I want to know now. Even my own sister looks like a stranger to me. I can't take this anymore. I've got to do something. And I know just what to do.

"Mom."

"Jane. What is it? Can't you see I'm upset?"

"Yeah, I can. That's why I'm here." So, I hugged her.

Hey, she might be irritating but she is my mother and I do care what happens to her. Now, if we can only salvage what's left of this party.